I miss you today, more so than usual, since it’s Mother’s Day. You left two years ago, while in the hospital; you waited until I walked outside to make a phone call, and when I came back, the look on the nurse’s face as he walked toward me was all I needed to know. If you were still here, you would have been without a foot, as they wanted to amputate it when the sore on it from being bandaged got so bad that nothing else could be done, and it wasn’t healing because you had no circulation in your leg from the stroke, and your skin was so fragile. I was told that even if the decision was made to amputate the foot, that you still might not make it, as you had an incredible amount of blockages in all of your arteries.
There was no one else to help me with deciding what to do, and when I asked you what you wanted to do, you said you wanted to keep your foot. I still don’t know if it was the right decision, but it was the one that I made.
My earliest memory is of you singing to me when I was in my crib; you usually sang “Would You Like to Swing on a Star?” I think I remember that because it had so many verses, and choices; I could be a mule, or a fish, or a pig, and that was pretty neat.
Would you like to swing on a star
Carry moonbeams home in a jar
And be better off than you are
Or would you rather be a mule
A mule is an animal with long funny ears
Kicks up at anything he hears
His back is brawny but his brain is weak
He’s just plain stupid with a stubborn streak
And by the way, if you hate to go to school
You may grow up to be a mule
You loved Bing Crosby, Perry Como, Frank Sinatra, and Dean Martin, among other crooners. I grew up with music, dance, art, and books, because of you and Dad, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I’m all right most days; and I miss you when the going gets rough, like it has been today. I like to think that you are with Dad, and Steve, and Naomi – give Asia a big hug for me. I love you, Mom.